24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

T he following day, I exit my room and descend the stairs to the main hall. My pace is slow as I take in the castle during the light of day. If Helios is the pinnacle of excess and opulence with its stained glass windows, gold-foiled murals, and excessive filigree, Selene is a striking image of quiet, confident wealth. Helios displays its riches for the world to see, while Selene's wealth remains subtly visible to those with a trained eye. The size and amount of windows, the numerous fireplaces, the quality of linens, and the curated collections of art—all point to a long line of deep pockets.

Razenna leads me to breakfast, where Luc, Sven, and Eoin are already eating with two armed guards. "Luc will be joining you and Eoin at the library today," she says. "I'll escort you there after you've finished eating."

The dining room is smaller and more intimate than I expected for a castle this size, but still more significant than any I've ever eaten in. Gold candlesticks and sweeping pine garland adorn the limb-sized mantle above the hearth, and above us hangs an impressive chandelier. I briefly wonder how much crystal is in this place.

I sit by Eoin, and a servant places a platter of sausage links, spinach, and fried pumpkin blossoms before me. The blossoms are delicious, and I take a second serving. Razenna leans on the wall and talks to a guard near the door, eyeing Luc and me.

"You look radiant," Luc says brightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I say apprehensively. "My bed was very comfortable, and my wing was quiet."

"Good. I'll make sure you're treated well while you're here." Luc stuffs half a sausage in his mouth, and Eoin rolls his eyes, pushing his plate away.

After breakfast, Razenna takes us to the stables, and we ride for about twenty minutes in the cool morning air. The ride through the mountain is notably scenic as we weave through tremendous trees so tall that I feel like I might fall off Penny when looking to the top. The path, lined with ferns, brambles, and moss-covered stones, winds past a hot spring and a small village on our way to the valley.

"A lot of the castle and library workers live here," Razenna says, gesturing to the heart of the village.

Luc and Sven lag behind us and seem to be deep in conversation. I swallow hard, wondering what they're discussing. Eoin remains quiet on the ride. I think he might still be pissed about what I told him last night.

We enter a barren valley and approach two monumental yet unremarkable pillars. The air between them is iridescent and shimmers like waves on the water, similar to the permanent rune gates we've found.

Razenna passes through the pillars first, and Eoin and I follow. As we pass through the watery filament, the glamour lifts, and the barren valley before us disappears, revealing rows upon rows of stone bookcases arranged in a labyrinth of sorts. Large ethereal trees grow between various rows, and spiral staircases wind around them, leading to small rooms.

Two guards stand at the entrance, wearing the same black fighting armor that August was wearing last night. A scribe in long dark green robes greets Razenna from behind an ornate desk.

"These are our guests," Razenna says to him. "August grants these two full access to the library until further notice. Those two," she gestures to Luc and Sven, "are granted primary access." The page nods, and the guards stand aside.

"Anyone you see in a green robe is a page." She speaks directly to me as if Luc and Sven aren't here. "You should ask them for help locating what you're looking for. They've trained for years and are very dedicated to their craft."

"Meet with me after dinner, and we can talk about what you find," Luc calls as a page leads him and Sven to another section of the library. Razenna sneers.

"Why don't you like Luc?" I ask.

"Why do you like him?" She scoffs. "He struts around like a peacock and seems to only care about making a name for himself. Besides that, he's using you and lying to you." She leads me to an isolated stone table under a willow tree, and we sit down. "He's a pompous asshole."

A man in a green robe approaches, and Razenna points to Eoin. "Take this one to the ancient arts section. Find him whatever he wants about mages and mage-work." Eoin raises his brows at me and follows the page.

"August thinks his mage skills may come in handy. He also told me Luc wants you to work for him once his father dies. Luc's father may look old, but he has many years left on him. He is playing on your ignorance of our world. How old do you think Luc is?"

"I would guess he is in his mid-thirties," I say apprehensively.

"Ha! Exactly." She points at me accusatorily. "Luc is ninety-seven. Barring injury or sickness, he will live another three hundred years or so. The High Lord of Helios has a solid thirty or forty years left on him. You don't know shit, and he knows it." She waves down a page. "He probably wants to string you along the whole time so he can use your magic."

I feel embarrassed, like the last one to understand the joke. "How old is August?"

Razenna rolls her eyes. "He's older than Luc, and he's not the one who wanted you here. I am, so you can dash out any hopes of him rescuing you."

"I don't understand. Why do you want me here?" I ask, ignoring the pang of sadness from her comment. A barefoot page in long green robes approaches us.

"What can I help you with?" The page asks.

I look to Razenna, and she shrugs. "Don't ask me. I'm already studying. We want fresh eyes on this."

"What did you learn from the old Crusader in the tavern?"

"Not much." She purses her lips. "He said we would need the power equivalent of dozens of black powder barrels to retrieve the sword, but he didn't disclose where it is. Where do you think we should start?"

"Do you have any biographies of the Prophet or books about beings with black eyes?"

Razenna's face remains cold and impassive.

"I'll see what we have and return it to you here." The page quickly retreats.

Razenna studies me intently. "I wanted you here because I thought you might be someone I'm looking for. August disagrees with me and thinks you're likely more trouble than you're worth, which may be the case."

Razenna stands. "I have work to get back to. Let any of the pages know when you're ready to return, and I'll escort you back to the castle."

The library around me is beautiful and serene. Trees stand scattered throughout, and ferns, flowers, and shrubs line the walkways. Vines with large leaves climb the occasional bookcase, some blooming with bright bulbs. Many of the pages are barefoot, walking along soft, mossy paths. The air is warm with a light breeze, and the birds sing songs of Ostara and daybreak.

The page returns and leaves a cart with no less than twenty-three books. "Black eyes usually refer to the gods, and we have countless books on them, so I brought you the basics. If you want something more specific, I will happily swap them out."

"This is a good start." I dismiss her, and her departure amplifies my solitude.

Young girls giggling echoes through the labyrinth, and curiosity gets the better of me. I push my cart towards the sound and work deeper into the maze of books. I turn left, and the path widens, cutting a clear path to a distant fountain.

The path opens to a round courtyard the size of a large tobacco field in the middle of the labyrinth. It's hard to miss the fountain in the middle, with life-sized winged horses rearing up and kicking and several gazebos and sitting areas with groups of scholars, soldiers, and scribes conversing.

On the far side of the courtyard lies a restaurant covered in vines and a small tea shop to my left. There's even what looks like a military outpost and a small stable. I spot Razenna talking to a group of soldiers near the outpost. She makes wild gestures and looks pissed, as usual—the world's grumpiest necromancer and apparently the only one who wants me here.

I push my cart to an empty table near the fountain and sit down. This feels much better than sitting alone with my thoughts. I sort through my books, stack them by general fiction and nonfiction, and combine poems and children's fables into one stack. There's no way I'm getting through all of these today.

I open a history book and skim the index, nearly jumping out of my skin as a stack of books drops onto the table beside me.

"I was told you're looking into gods and the Prophet," August says and jabs his finger at his stack of books. "I thought you should also learn more about yourself while you're here." The six books he dropped are all about the siren fae.

"Why do they always draw us like that?" I ask, pointing to the top book, which features a beautiful topless woman with long fins instead of legs.

He cocks his head and his eyebrows furrow. "You don't know how it all started?"

He walks around the table and sits across from me. Three soldiers near the outpost whisper between each other and glare in our direction. A female soldier with a black ponytail looks particularly aggravated by my presence.

"I suppose you wouldn't. It was generations ago for you. Even for me, it's just a story. It happened when my father was an infant when the gods still walked among us." He taps the books again. "You'll find a lengthier version here, but it all started with a siren fae who fell in love with a goddess. That goddess had another lover, a god, who caught them together in bed. He cursed all of the sirens, giving most of them fins and gills. The goddess was able to shield some of them from the physical portions of the curse, but they all were cursed with the affliction you've likely heard about. Their touch can cause lovers to become obsessive, violent, and unstable – often leading to the lover's death."

"How do you know so much about them?"

His gaze flicks to the ring on his hand. "My mother was one."

Another siren? She's no longer living, but the thought gives me hope that there are maybe others like me out there.

"Is it really that bad—the curse?" I could care less about the Prophet's biographies and want to dive wholeheartedly into my lineage.

"It's hard to say. There are not many of you around to find out. I always thought my father just seemed recklessly devoted to my mother, but perhaps he was cursed in a way. Either way, I suspect he didn't mind." He smiles at the thought.

August rubs his fingers through his beard. Adorning his middle finger is a large gold ring with a symbol I recognize. How did I miss this last night? Am I losing my edge?

"That symbol!" I shout and point to his ring. "The raven with the sunburst," I say, reigning in my excitement.

His eyes brighten. "Not quite." He pulls off the ring and slides it to me.

The ring is warm and ordinary if not for the raised symbol. "Another phoenix?" I ask. That was definitely a phoenix on the hairpin I found in his room that night.

"Another phoenix," August says, putting the ring back on. "It is one of the old-time symbols for siren fae. It relates to this story." He pushes his stack towards me. "Most of the books you've selected are from the restricted section and cannot be taken from the library. I'll make sure they're brought to you when you return tomorrow. As for these, I'll have them delivered to your room, where you can read at your leisure." He stands and turns to leave my table.

"Why a phoenix?" I ask, not wanting him to leave yet.

He hesitates, and I'm not sure if he's going to answer me, but he finally walks over to me, standing before me as he did in the study. He grabs my chin between his thumb and his forefinger, lifting my gaze to his.

"A phoenix because you can come back from death. Your darkness will hang onto this world while your body heals, and then you can return. Only siren healers can pull this off, though; that's why your powers are such a dangerous combination."

"Impossible," I say, barely above a whisper. He smells divine, and my treacherous heart beats so loudly that I wonder if he can hear it. "Even fae can't come back from death."

He smirks at me and runs his thumb down my chin and across the front of my throat. "You already have."